


Querula

by uumuu



Series: Our Heaven [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cunnilingus, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingolfin complains to Findis about the time she spends with Fëanor. Findis has her own way to deal with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Querula

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly altered version of the fill I wrote for [this prompt](http://silmarillionkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1329.html?thread=97329#cmt97329), specifically the "Nolofinwe keeps whining about how Findis got three assignations with Feanor last week while he only got one and he had to share with Arafinwe" part.

The fifth time Ñolofinwë passed the table where Findis was folding paper, with the air of someone who has been the victim of a terrible wrong, Findis sighed and looked up. She wouldn't have wanted to indulge him, but she had already made the wrong crease twice, and she didn't want to waste any more of the paper she had received from Eärwen. 

“Ñolvo, what is it?” 

Ñolofinwë stopped directly opposite her, between the table and the window, blocking Laurelin's waning light.

“What is it,” he repeated wryly, as if she should have known perfectly, and her question was simply a taunt to further annoy him. “How come you spent the night with Fëanáro thrice last week?”

Findis was struck dumb for a moment. It was such a querulous question, uttered so scathingly, that she hesitated to believe her brother - her level-headed, sensible brother - could have really conceived it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know you did!” 

Findis stared and resigned herself to the evidence – her brother had truly turned into a peevish child. “...because I wanted to,” she replied at last.

“Well, I wanted to, too, but I only managed to sleep with him once, and Arafinwë was there too, so it wasn't even as it should have been.” Ñolofinwë would have wanted to be angrier at Arafinwë, but it was impossible to turn him away when he made the face of a lost puppy. Besides, he was a wonderful cocksucker and there was a particular pleasure in fucking his face while Fëanáro pounded into his ass. Just the sight of Fëanáro's concentrated expression, and the arrogant smirk that curved his lips, and the sweat rolling down his chest...

“You should be more forward,” Findis said, interrupting his reverie. 

“More forward, ah yes, as if it's any easy to get a hold of Fëanáro. First there's his wife, of course,” Ñolofinwë was still befuddled by the fact that Anairë didn't care much for sex, and though he respected her choice, it left him on his own when everybody else was otherwise engaged. “Then there are his brats...Eru forbid they should ever be apart from their father for long! The world would be unmade.”

“You could share with them, too.”

Ñolofinwë made a face. He would have rather slept with a cactus (or actually not, but he had no intention of sharing Fëanáro every single time, especially not with his sons).

“...then there is father.” No one ever dared get between Finwë and Fëanáro. It would have been like trying to meddle in the affairs of two irritable lions. Ñolofinwë had just happened to espy them at it once, and it had been almost disturbing. Almost. The way his father wrapped his arms around Fëanáro, possessively, and the way Fëanáro melted into their father would have made Námo himself hard. “Then there is the ever nosy Findaráto, who has to try whatever his father does...and now you go and try to claim him for yourself, unmindful of your brothers!” 

Lalwen, thankfully, was only attracted to women, so Ñolofinwë had enlisted her help to keep Nerdanel, Curufinwë's wife, and Írissë as far away from Fëanáro as possible, for as long as possible. He had to keep an eye on Elenwë and Eldalótë, too. Better to be cautious than assume they would just keep away out of affection for their newly wed husbands.

“Are you done whining?” 

Ñolofinwë grunted in indignation. 

“What I meant is, if you spent less time complaining, you would find your occasions,” she said, appeasingly, doing her best to keep the annoyance she felt from her voice and her expression. She shifted her weight on her seat. “Take tomorrow, for example. Amárië has invited the ladies to a...poetry night,” – poetry was mostly an excuse, of course – “and Fëanáro's sons are having a cousin night. If you keep Arafinwë and Father away, you could have your chance.”

“...how do you know this?”

“Amárië invited me too, and Turucáno was quarreling with Aicanáro over who gets to sleep with the twins.” It was a frequent argument; everybody seemed to find something particularly enticing in sleeping with the twins. 

“Well...I could probably do as you say,” Ñolofinwë conceded after some consideration. “But you must keep in mind what I told you for the future...we should share fairly.”

*

Not one hour later, Findis was comfortably sprawled on her bed, naked from the waist down, with Fëanáro's head buried in her crotch and his mouth working its wonders on her quim. 

Fëanáro had planned for that night to be a night of rest, but when Findis had called him to her rooms and asked him to pleasure her – in a demanding manner that he found irresistible – he had obliged just as Findis knew he would.

His lips were locked around Findis's clit, massaging it with careful, steady suction. The tip of his nose poked the hidden length of her clit, and he purposefully swayed his head from side to side, slowly, to heighten the sensation. Two of his fingers thrust into her, shallowly, and often lingered on the rim of her opening to press directly against the ring with which he himself had pierced the fleshy base of her quim. 

Findis whimpered above him, writhing jerkily against his face. She had already orgasmed once, but the first climax always left her wanting for more, and Fëanáro was never loath to give it. He enjoyed drawing that second climax out instead, adding to it by degrees, his mouth untiring in heaping pleasure on her. It would have been a shame to have it end too quickly, when they could indulge, when they could go through the kindling and peaking of bliss time and again.

Fëanáro hummed loud and slowly raised his head while pulling on her clit, just as slowly kept moving his head from side to side, a motion that had Findis thrash and buck. Then he unclenched his lips and she lay back with a groan.

“So it was Ñolvo's whining that made you this horny?” he asked, licking his lips while continuing to push his fingers inside her and through her juices.

“Yes,” Findis sighed. The steady pulsing between her legs was almost too good to bear, hot and wet, and utterly intoxicating. “I sat there, while he kept blabbering about –” she breathed in sharply as Fëanáro pulled on the ring just below her opening, “– you...and my 'appropriating' you, and at one point I started shifting my weight so that I could rub myself against the chair.”

Fëanáro smirked and trailed the tip his tongue up the left side of her quim and down on the other.

“He has to...to-...to make it up to me.”

“You want to get back at him?” 

Fëanáro's tongue licked down from the hood of her clit, over the hardened nub, and joined his fingers inside her opening, swirling around then abruptly stopping.

Findis groaned in protest. “Yes. He will seek you tomorrow night. I shall be there too...I want to sit on his face while you fuck his ass.”

Fëanáro lifted his eyebrows appreciatively.

Findis smiled and stretched her arms down, combing her fingers through his hair, in an unmistakable plea.

Fëanáro bent and took her clit into his mouth again. He started flicking his tongue against it, and soon he had to clamp his hands around Findis's thighs to keep her from squirming too much. His fingers dug into her skin, adding the faintest hint of pain to the pleasure. He licked and sucked until Findis's voice rose to a scream and she climaxed again. 

Her chest heaved against the constraint of her tight-fitting blouse. Fëanáro laid a final kiss on her clit and crawled to sit next to her, unlacing the blouse so that she could slip out of it. 

“You will miss Amárië's 'poetry' night.”

“It's no big deal...the ladies can wait.” Ñolofinwë could not, he himself had said it. She reached towards Fëanáro's crotch and the sizeable bulge there.

“No...I'll save it for tomorrow.”

“...right, good.” Findis drew him down for a kiss, and licked her own juices from his lips. “After Ñolvo's hard and wanting, we won't let him come...we'll tie him up and he will only be able to watch while you fuck me.”

Fëanáro chuckled. "Sounds like a plan."


End file.
